


Danger Night

by KittieHill



Series: Prompts [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Danger Night, Discussion of Sibling Incest, Friendship, Hair stroking, Incesty Handjobs, Incesty rutting, Little bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 05:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2640158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittieHill/pseuds/KittieHill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a danger night, Sherlock has a wet dream in John's bed and explains his and Mycroft's previous teenage fumblings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Danger Night

**Author's Note:**

> Was asked for a story where Sherlock admits that he and Mycroft used to fool around together. Ended up with this! Hope you enjoy it. Please leave comments and requests and I'll see what I can do!
> 
> Not Beta'd. Not for profit, just for lady (and gentleman) wanking.

Tonight was a danger night; John realised early and recognised the signs. _The lack of sleep, not enough nutrition, the ever-present screech of the violin at ungodly hours of the day and night_.

The lingering scent of cigarette smoke clung to the tall man’s pyjamas and hair; his pale skin milky white in the light of the moon as he looked out over London. John sat silently in his armchair, one hand gripping a book yet never really reading it, he watched his friend look out sightlessly.

John sighed. It was going to be a long night.

John had fallen asleep in the living room before being awoken by the cold November air, Sherlock lay still on the sofa, unmoving and silent as he looked over the cold and dark room. Standing awkwardly, John stretched until his joints realigned with a satisfying click before he walked to his friend, convincing the younger man to retire to bed, _his bed_. Sherlock had stayed silent but finally agreed and stood, walking steadily to John’s room by his friend's side. He lay on the opposite side to John’s usual sleeping side and climbed under the covers warming his ice-cold limbs in the lavender scented bedding. John stripped to his t-shirt and underwear before climbing in beside his friend, keeping a safe distance between them as the pair both lay on their backs looking up at the ceiling.

“John?” Sherlock asked, his deep voice seeming to echo around the room,

“Sherlock,” John replied without moving his head,

“Could you… Would you stroke my hair?” Sherlock asked, his usually confident demeanour changing to one of vulnerability.

“I erm… yes alright. Turn over,” John whispered wondering why on earth he agreed,

The bed beside him moved and wobbled as Sherlock turned onto his side, his knees tucked up to his chest and the tip of his finger moving into his mouth as Sherlock made himself comfortable in the bedding which smelled of John. It was like being engulfed in a cocoon of John Watson.

The doctor stayed on his back for a moment, his mind whirling with the thoughts and issues which may arise after this intimate gesture between the pair. He soon talked himself around, he was a doctor; He could do this for his friend, it was just another type of care. Not for the body but for the soul. He turned himself over until his nose was close to Sherlock’s messy curls and tangled his fingers into the knots of hair; stroking and caressing them gently.

Tingles exploded in Sherlock’s spine, radiating out as Johns fingers twisted and pulled at his hair. Sherlock pushed his finger into his mouth deeper to stop the moans of arousal escaping and instead closed his eyes, savouring the touches of his dearest friend. John was a good man, a loyal man but a straight-laced man, he would never understand Sherlock’s needs.

The pair lay for a while, breathing quietly in the dark as John combed through Sherlock’s hair and Sherlock sucked on his finger softly. The deafening thoughts which ran through Sherlock’s mind every minute of every day died away to a faint whispering as he focussed on Johns touch. He breathed deeply realising he had an erection which caused a ripple of disgust travel through his body at his own weakness.

John also had the familiar stirrings of an erection, the closeness of Sherlock’s body and the intimate scenario they were in wasn’t helping matters. John tried to be clinical and chastised himself that it was a natural human reaction, he was in bed with another person for the first time in months ( _thanks to Sherlock’s constant rudeness to his girlfriends_ ) and he was sexually frustrated having only quick wanks in the shower to maintain himself. He wondered for a moment whether Sherlock wanked in the shower before shaking the thought from his mind.

John moved his hand down to the back of Sherlock’s neck pulling at the shorter hairs on the sensitive skin and listening to the gasp which was dragged from the detective’s lips, the sweet sound caused Johns cock to twitch violently in his underwear and he longed to hear it again. He stroked around the area softly before tugging one more time hearing the whimper once again. John moved his fingers until they gently touched the shell of Sherlock’s ear; he tucked the stray hair behind his ear and moved his digits to stroke the thin skin around the jaw.

John heard a choke escape Sherlock before the younger man sat up and gracefully stood to full height and left the bedroom without a word leaving John lying on his side confused and extraordinarily horny.

Sherlock had locked himself in the bathroom, his head against the cold tiles as his mind whirred. His underwear cupped his prominent bulge tightly as the wetness began to touch his skin, it had been a long time since he had had an emission like this… the last time was when he was with Mycroft… but he didn’t want to think about that now. He pulled away the come soaked material and left it in a puddle on the floor before climbing into the shower and allowing the boiling hot water to run over his body.

John lay in bed confused; he wasn’t sure what had made Sherlock bolt for the door in that manner but he was beginning to understand. He looked over at the empty space beside him and noticed the small spots of wetness which had dripped onto his bedding, pressing his digits to the liquid he brought it up to his nose. He recognised the smell immediately; _years in the army, sharing small spaces with lots of other men means the smell of come is easily recognisable_. He sighed deeply and lay on his back stroking his fingers together until the wetness had dried into his skin, he wondered how on earth to speak to Sherlock about this.

He heard Sherlock exit the bathroom and walk to his bedroom before returning to Johns in fresh black underwear. Sherlock awkwardly made eye contact before lying back down in the warmth of John’s bed on his back, one arm thrown behind his head, the other lying on his stomach.

“It’s perfectly natural...” John started,

“I know,” Sherlock said, his deep voice resonating through Johns' chest,

“I mean… we all do it. I haven’t… I mean… I haven’t noticed you doing it.” John stammered, mentally kicking himself for being such an idiot.

“I don’t,” Sherlock stated,

“You don’t what, Sherlock?” asked John incredulously,

Sherlock turned his head to look at his friend, pale blue eyes burning fiercely. A moment of understanding passed between the two men before Sherlock turned his head again; hoping that the subject was closed.

John stayed silent for a while, dozing quietly as Sherlock lay beside him. Eventually, Sherlock sighed deeply and whispered “Ask”

John opened one eye and looked over at Sherlock quizzically “Ask what?”

“What you’ve been thinking about for the last 10 minutes, I can hear you thinking and it's deafening,”

John choked slightly before clearing his throat and whispering “Can you? Or do you just not like it?”

Sherlock kept his eyes on the ceiling as he thought. He spoke softly as he explained to John that he had never had much of an interest in sex or masturbation, he was always busy and concentrating on important things rather than his sexual fulfilment. He explained that he often had episodes of wet dreams which he would clean up and ignore before going about his day. He looked over at John, who looked open-mouthed and shocked,

“When? When was the last time you…?” John stuttered before making a crude hand gesture towards Sherlock which made the younger man smile,

“26th March 2009, 8:15 pm, for 17 minutes,” Sherlock stated matter of factly,

John shook his head and smiled.

A few hours later the two men were still laid together, talking about cases and experiences from their past but John was distracted. He wanted to know more about Sherlock’s teenage years and what set off the incident earlier in the morning; Sherlock was clearly apprehensive about talking about his early years and John softly probed him a little more until Sherlock sighed and began his tale,

He and Mycroft had been alone with one another for a long time, their parents hadn’t introduced them to other children and for a while, it was just the Holmes brothers. Sherlock was the idiot and Mycroft was the clever one, it was how it always was until the two boys had to go to school when Sherlock had been mercilessly bullied due to his differences, so unlike the other boys in ability and looks. His lean frame and angles seemingly all wrong as a gangly teenager plus his obvious intellect made him an easy target for bullies. Mycroft had stayed with him and protected him as much as possible, deducing secrets on the bullies to keep them quiet but Sherlock had retreated into himself.

Sherlock looked at John and cleared his throat as he remembered the first boy to ever show an interest in him, he was the same age as Sherlock and seemed to care about him. They spent a lot of time together and would sleep over at one others houses, Sherlock remembered he was about 15 at the time, lying in the boy’s room as they looked at filthy magazines which they had found at a local park. The pictures of women didn’t do anything for Sherlock, but the pictures of hairy naked men caused his erection to press against the fabric of his clothing, he had palmed himself and tried to take his mind off the problem until he noticed that his friend was in the same position. The boys had wordlessly stripped down and begun to stroke themselves, slowly bringing themselves to a climax when the boy’s father had walked in and gone crazy. He had grabbed at Sherlock who managed to grab his clothes and hide in the bathroom until he could run out of the house. The boy had been taken out of the school from that day and Sherlock had never seen him again, Mycroft had heard about the situation from their irate parents and spoke to Sherlock about his urges and sexual relief much to Sherlock’s absolute humiliation. He hadn’t bothered with sex much since.

Except with Mycroft. The boys would sometimes stay awake, deducing late into the night in Mycroft’s bed before falling asleep together. Sherlock would curl his body around Mycroft’s back, one long-fingered hand tangling into the older boy’s hair as he slept whilst his hips rocked and thrust against the fabric-clad arse of his brother. He was sure that Mycroft was awake but he had never stopped him, Sherlock would sigh and gasp in happiness as his climax rocked his body and wetness covered his pants and the back of Mycroft. Sherlock would undress and lie beside his brother naked. Mycroft would pretend to wake up a few minutes later and undress until the two brothers lay side by side, naked, covered only with a sheet. Sherlock would then wrap his fingers around Mycroft’s hardness and stroke him until the older Holmes brother finished his orgasm over his fist with a whimper. They would then fall asleep together and continue their lives as though nothing happened.

John listened enraptured as he imagined the taboo nature of two brothers touching one another. He hadn’t expected his cock to harden in arousal at Sherlock’s incestuous relationship with Mycroft but he tried to keep his voice as calm as possible,

“Does it happen often?” John asked nervously,

Sherlock looked confused before sniggering, “We grew out of it… mostly. It tends to be on what Mycroft likes to call my _danger nights.”_

John nodded as he imagined Sherlock’s long fingers wrapped around another cock, his heart beat quickly in his ears,

“You could… I mean… if you needed to… with me...” John stammered, his cheeks blushing pink,

Sherlock cricked an eyebrow up as he looked at John’s arousal blown pupils and the creeping blush over the doctor’s cheeks and tips of his ears,

“I’m okay for now, thanks, John.” Sherlock smiled before snuggling deeper into the mattress and falling into a deep and dreamless sleep; unlike John who lay awake thinking for hours.

 


End file.
